


Reality

by lysmth



Series: Let me live / Let me die [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A tiny bit of fluff, Angst, But mostly angst, M/M, Nightmares, daryl is also very in love with paul, paul is very in love with Daryl, rating is for walker behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysmth/pseuds/lysmth
Summary: Somewhere in the back of his brain in a place his consciousness cannot reach, Paul knows this is a dream. The world is to vibrant, the air to sweet now that the ever present scent of dead and decay and blood does not underlie it.A sound near him makes him raise his head fractionally, locks furbished golden in the warm sunlight and pooling around his shoulders. He is surprised that he is not surprised to find Daryl seated close to him, their bare feet touching.‘ Hey. ‘





	1. paul

_He’s lying in a clearing, legs spread out and head thrown back in the lush grass. His eyes peer up at the sky from between his lashes, the blue so vibrant it nigh hurts to look at._

_Somewhere in the back of his brain in a place his consciousness cannot reach, Paul knows this is a dream. The world is to vibrant, the air to sweet now that the ever present scent of dead and decay and blood does not underlie it. A sound near him makes him raise his head fractionally, locks furbished golden in the warm sunlight and pooling around his shoulders. He is surprised that he is not surprised to find Daryl seated close to him, their bare feet touching._

_‘ Hey. ‘_

_The hunter looks up, movements stilling as he flashes Paul a radiant smile. It leaves him reeling for a moment, desire unfurling in the pit of his stomach like a sunflower opening her petals for the coveted beams ----- he wants to kiss those lips, map the edges of that mouth with his own, learn the contours of his neck and shoulders with his tongue, lap at the enticing dip in his throat._

_The part of his brain that knows that he is dreaming recognizes that the smile that has him reeling is but a figment of his lovelorn imagination. Daryl does not smile like that, all bared teeth and dimpled cheeks. Daryl does not smile like that for him, all Paul receives are endless, lingering looks and if he is lucky a half smile. And yet, his heart lies in the palm of Daryl’s hand, throbbing and bleeding and hoping and despairing **yet still hoping** for the slim chance Daryl might love him back. Because it is love. He knew it was love when Daryl woke him up from that nightmare, whispering soothing words in the shell of his ear before retreating when Paul fully woke._

_He knew it was love when he saw that one walker come to close, almost tearing through Daryl’s skin with vicious teeth. The panic he’d felt had been all encompassing, fear seeping down his spine like ghostly, brumal fingers. He knew it was love when his chest ached and ached and ached in the hunters absence, and when that pain alleviated when Daryl came back to hilltop, crashing on his couch._

_But here, enclosed in the picturesque dreamscape it feels right. They are together ----- i am his and he is mine._

_‘ Hey. ‘ He whispers back, wiggling his toes just so he can feel the slide of skin against skin. He sits up fully, fingers entangling in the grass to occupy them ere they decide to act on the images that still flit through his brain. A sketchbook is opened in Daryl’s lap, harsh pencil strokes depicting the image of Paul’s relaxing form. Blood pools in his cheeks as he sees it, trickling down his neck and dusting his clavicles a shade of pink. Daryl chuckles, the pencil previously held in his hand falling on the paper as the hunter reaches for him, one finger chasing the blush on his skin._

_‘ Couldn’t resist. Ya looked so sweet. ‘_

_Paul laughs, well wheezes as Daryl’s teeth nip at his collarbone before his lips and tongue set to work on soothing the blooming bruise._

_‘ Like a little angel.’_

_His hands leave the grass, finger stained green but he doesn’t care when he smears the smudges over Daryl’s skin, his arms, his neck, his cheeks. Muscles ripple and bunch beneath his sensitive pads and a long, contented sigh oozes of his lips. If only he could stop time, build walls around this moment to capture it within like a glittering scene in a globe. Everlasting and untarnished by the outside world._

_‘ We both know that you are the angel and not me. ‘_

_He taps the wings on Daryl’s back for emphasis, fingers lingering and tracing the contour of his shoulder blades. The hunter kisses up his neck, nibbles at his ear only to stop and nuzzle his jaw._

_‘ Nah. I ain’t angel material. ‘_

_Paul’s fingertips find purchase under the hunters chin, tilting his head and for a moment he is struck by the immense intensity of Daryl’s eyes. They’re infinite oceans in which Paul wants to drown. They’re liquid fire being swallowed by charcoal darkness and Paul can feel that same heat simmering under his skin. He’s sure his own eyes are a mirror image. ‘ I think you are. ‘ Paul sighs ere leaning in, desperate for a taste of that tantalizing mouth._

_The feeling of utter wrongness makes him stop in his tracks. The skin under his fingers has gone cold and clammy, the breath ghosting over his cheekbone carrying a putrid scent. The body in his arms is no longer pliant, it’s wriggling and growling gutteraly in discontent. Dread settles in the cavern of his chest, curls around his neck to suffocate him silently. It claws at his heart and yet Paul looks up, wants to see why Daryl is suddenly so different._

_As he does, fingers claw at his chest, nails sinking through his flesh until his ribcage is lied bare and Paul screams and screams until he can’t anymore because blood is pooling at the base of his throat, choking him, drowning him. The eyes that look at him are grey and bloodshot and Paul knows they don’t recognize him. His mouth is pulled back in a horrible snarl, teeth clicking and snapping and rotten. His ribs are being broken, splintered in hands that drew him lying in the sun. Hands that held him so gently just moments before. And Paul looks as Daryl, or what used to be Daryl taking hold of his still beating heart, how he cups it in his hands while mindless hunger is etched on his dead face. And he wants to scream and plead but he can’t, he can’t and ---_

**_‘ Paul! ‘_ **

The scene dissolves rapidly, sunlight giving way to darkness. He hears someone screaming and it takes a moment for his brain to recognize that the screaming is coming from his own mouth. Confusion settles on his chest like a brick, hands flailing and mind floundering until his fingers collide with something solid, until a grunt pierces through the white noise that blares in his ears. Until unseeing eyes suddenly see and clarity wraps around him like a security blanket.

It was a dream. A nightmare.

The weight lifts of his chest and oxygen rushes through his veins when he can finally breathe freely. ‘ Daryl? ‘ His voice sounds small and utterly broken.

‘ Yeah, ‘m here. ‘

Calloused fingers touch his cheek hesitantly, caress the skin gently and that is all it takes for Paul to shatter into a thousand pieces. He sits up so fast that he surprises himself and flings his arms around Daryl, sobbing incoherently against his shoulder. The flannel he is wearing will be ruined but he cannot find it in himself to care. He is surprised, again, when big hands settle against his back, a warm weight anchoring him while the hunter mumbles soothingly against his hair.

It takes a while for Paul to calm down and pull back, head bend in shame. He must look a right mess, all blotchy skin and snot dribbling from his nose. He lifts a hand to wipe it away.

‘ Sorry, for waking you up. ‘

When he chances a peek up at Daryl he sees that the man in question is frowning at him, his mouth curled downward. Paul lifts his head fully, silently inquiring him to speak.

‘ What did i do? ‘

‘ Hu? ‘

‘ Ya were screamin’ my name just now. Ya were screamin’ for me to stop. ‘

A look Paul cannot decipher haunts Daryl's eyes. He thinks he’s able to discern worry and regret and maybe a hint of disappointment.

‘ Oh. ‘Paul wants to hit himself, his usual eloquence nowhere to be found.

‘ It wasn’t you. Well, it was you but you were dead and- ‘ He lets the sentence hang in the air were it festers, they both know how that scene has unfolded. Paul wipes a few stray tears away and sniffles. ‘ I hated seeing you like that. It was not real but still. ‘

His hand finds Daryl’s of its own volition. Perhaps a part of him seeks to verify that this right here is indeed reality. Thicker fingers curl around his own and they sit in silence for what feels like eternity.

***

The next day they go about their business as if nothing has happened, as if Paul didn’t cry his eyes out on the shoulder of the man he dreamed he’d lost. They pretend nothing has changed in their relationship while they both know it has. Something fundamental.The tectonic plates have shifted until a whole new, unthreaded plane of possibilities laid before them.

The only indication of something changing are Daryl’s smiles whenever Paul looks his way, encouraging and almost sweet. And Paul’s bleeding heart swells and hopes some more. Maybe his feelings are not one sided after all. He is determined to find out.


	2. daryl

The day has been devoured by the night, the skies pitchblack and ablaze with a million pinpricks of faintly glimmering lights. Smoke trickles from Daryl's lips as he gazes at the unpolluted view stretching before him and it is at times like this that he itches to climb up the highest tree like he used to do as a kid, to admire the canvas that is the night sky yawning above him. He remembers the first time Merle brought him to the woods at night, to a little clearing that had a spectacular view away from the light pollution. Merle had pointed out some of the constellations, Orion in particular because even back then Daryl had shown interest in hunting. It is one of the more cherished memories of his deceased brother and when he is alone under the cover of darkness his mind wanders to that moment more often than not. It was before Merle got sent to juvie, before he started to look more and more like their daddy with each passing day. It had been one good night, preceding the pain and heartache waiting for him around the corner. 

He flicks the ash from his cigarette thoughtlessly, takes another drag and lets his lungs expand and fill with poison. His veins contract and hum, the nicotine providing the rush he’d been craving. Tobacco and cigarettes are scarce nowadays and Daryl knows he should ration them, but the itching under his skin and the whirring thoughts warring in his head only seem to quite when his lips are wrapped around a cigarette. ‘ that’s addiction for ya. ‘ he thinks and crushes the smoldering butt under his heel when he is done with it.

He remains seated on the steps outside the trailer, the door cracked open so he can keep an eye on Paul. He seems to be suffering from nightmares more than usual and Daryl has been there to wake up him up unless he was otherwise occupied or in Alexandria. 

Nightmares are no rarity among the people and are a contributing factor to why he is seated outside in the holst of night, not yet ready and willing to face the demons that have overtaken his subconsciousness after his incarceration in The Sanctuary, after the war. The past few months are a black page in the books of the remaining survivors and each and every one of them struggles and copes with it in a different way. For Daryl, it’s not sleeping and chain smoking. Hardly healthy. 

The rustle of Paul shifting in his bed makes Daryl’s head lift from it’s position between his shoulder blades, ears pricked up but nothing follows. He sighs, snatches another cigarette from his rapidly decreasing stash and lights it with the zippo Paul got him. 

Paul Paul Paul. _Jesus_. 

Mayhaps Daryl has not been entirely honest with himself. The wayward thoughts of his deceased sibling and the nightmares or not the only cause keeping him from much needed rest and successfully turning him into an insomniac. The little ninja may not be the main cause but, Daryl thinks, he is damn well near defeating the other two.

His not blue but also not quite green eyes haunt him whenever he gets a blink of sleep, his  voice a phantom whisper that intermittently manages to hold the demons at bay. Those dreams leave Daryl restless in another way, kindles the smoldering embers in his heart to a flame which has grown steadily over the months he has known Paul. Periodically Daryl has caught himself wishing for a nightmare rather than a dream in which Paul is his, writhing beneath him or looking like a damn well deity, with sun drenched hair and kiss swollen lips while riding him. 

The attraction for the younger man had been instant, the moment he’d looked in those ever changing eyes. Of course he hadn’t known that the man would linger, that he would get handed an opportunity to get under his skin and weasel his way into his heart. Must be some kind of cosmic joke. Daryl Dixon in love, his brother would’ve had a fieldtrip with that one. Daryl snorts, momentarily shattering the silence and shakes his head. It makes it no less true and no less daunting. He’d never been in love before, his expertise in the area limited to one night stands and quick fucks in the back seats of cars. But Paul ‘Jesus’ Rovia had managed to pick the lock of his heart. Little shit. 

The sound of a shriek pierces through the quite and Daryl starts, abruptly pulled from his reminiscence by the sound of his name. He stands as quick as a viper and marches inside the trailer to see what has Paul calling out for him, only to realise that he is still fast asleep. 

His pale face is illuminated by the scant light of a waxing moon, contorted and sweating, his hair splayed around his head in complete disarray. Daryl is kneeling next to the bed without a second thought,  ready to rouse Paul from the nightmare that plagues his sleep but the words that slip from the unconscious man make him stop in his tracks. ‘ Daryl! Stop! ‘ Paul screams, muscles contracting under the blankets, hands clawing at the air as if he is trying to ward something off and Daryl sits frozen, his outstretched fingers hovering over Paul’s chest. He can see wetness glimmering on Paul’s lashes, the whimpering coming from him tearing at his heart strings. Or what is left of it, he is quite sure an unknown force just punched a hole in his chest and removed his heart all together. He can’t breathe, the air knocked out of his lungs with Paul’s obviously fearful exclamation. His brain goes into overdrive, analyzing every interaction between the two of them, searching for something that he might have said or done that warrants such a reaction. He can’t think of anything and he tries to dig deeper and still comes up empty. Daryl! Stop! It echoes in his ears, mingles with another blood curdling scream that prompts Daryl to sharply pinch Paul’s shoulder. Paul’s eyes snap open, his arms flying up and hitting Daryl square in the chest that has him nearly topple over. The quietly spoken ‘Daryl?’ does nothing to sooth the festering edges of his heart. 

‘ Yeah, ‘m here. ‘ His fingers reach of their own accord, touch Paul’s sweat slicked cheek. He hadn’t anticipated Paul throwing his arms around him and proceeding to cry his eyeballs out. It goes on for a while, the slighter man sobbing against his shoulder and soaking the shirt he is wearing. Awkwardly he rubs circles on Paul’s back, tries to comfort him with a string of nonsense tumbling from his tongue. And then Paul sits back, lower lip still trembling and lashes stuck together by the steady flow of tears. It breaks something inside of him.

‘ Sorry for waking you up. ‘

Daryl wants to huff, tell him he’d wake him up from every nightmare if he damn well could, yet instead a frown creases his forehead and pinches his lips into a straight line. He’s back to analyzing, back to trying to remember why Paul would dream of him as a threat. 

‘ What did I do? ‘ Apparently the confusion has removed the filter from his brain to his mouth and he blurts out the first thing that pops up in his head. 

‘ Hu? ‘

‘ Ya were screamin’ my name just now. Ya were screamin’ for me to stop. ‘

‘ Oh. It wasn’t you. Well, it was you but you were dead and-’

Dead. He’d been a walker. Relief washes over him and breathing comes a little easier, withal some residual confusion still lingers in the back of his brain, now analyzing Paul’s outburst after waking up. His tears had been real, not one of his well thought out little schemes and somehow that frightens him more than the possibility of having done something that would have him degrading from ‘friend’ to ‘threat’ in Paul’s head. He is used to being perceived as a hazard, for both society and himself.

He tucks it away for later, focuses on the here and now. He wants to fold Paul into a hug, tuck his head under his chin and keep him there. Paul seems to be thinking along the same lines, albeit a bit more hesitant, but the warm pressure of his hand in his, of their fingers curling together, is enough. For now. 

***

The next day Daryl busies himself with chores, the bags under his eyes a testament of his sleepless night. Paul and he had sat in silence for hours, the hand holding eventually upgraded to Paul curling up against his chest and into his arms. Daryl recognizes it as a turning point. The axis of their relationship having changed in a way he as of now only dreamed of. And now, when the little shit looks at him, Daryl’s smiles come a little easier. 

He dares not hope but the seed has been planted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this happened :') this work iss unbeta'd and english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own.

**Author's Note:**

> Wew, I hope you guys like it! This work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Also you can find me on tingle @pproditoraa, if you guys like you can send in things you'd like to see in this series and I'll work on incooperating them<33 * ( and also just for chatting of course! :) )


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